


The Reset

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Dom Sherlock, Dom/sub, Dominance, Incest, Kneeling, M/M, Restraints, Sensory Deprivation, Sub Mycroft, Submission, crawling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt; Can I get Sherlock fucking Mycroft's mouth and Mycroft choking and in tears, but loving it anyway? </p><p> </p><p>Things go wrong for Mycroft at work, his PA seeks out Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reset

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Apologies between Brothers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194085) by [sherlockian4evr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr). 



> Beta read by sherlockian4evr

When Sherlock walked out of New Scotland Yard, he might have expected many things, but for once, he did not anticipate the black sedan to be sat waiting. It had been waiting a while, the engine was off.

He sighed. He was meant to be meeting John. They were going on what the doctor would call a date, but what he would call a free meal at Angelo's. He rapped his knuckles against the window. It rolled down at once to reveal his brother's assistant, who else. She was also distracted, typing away at her phone like there was nothing else going on.

“What?” he snapped, irritated.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes, but your brother is in… well, a state. Code 1.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and breathed deep. “One moment.” He stepped back from the car so he could make a call without the PA overhearing.

“John?”

“ _Yes, Sherlock. You alright_?” The doctor was immediately worried. Why did he always worry?

“Why wouldn't I be alright?”

“ _Don't get snarky with me, mister_.”

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“ _You never call me. I always call you_.”

Sherlock chuckled slightly. He knew that would have been more amusing on any other day, but he was worried about his brother - unusually worried.

“It's Mycroft. He needs me.” Those 5 words said everything between the two of them.

He could almost see John nod and dry wash his face in his Mind Palace. “ _Code 1 or 2_?”

“1.”

“ _Well, I'll see you when you get back. I'll rearrange our table for tomorrow, yeah_?”

“Yeah.” He knew he sounded distant, but he couldn't help it.

“ _Don't worry too much, Babe. Call me if you need me_.”

“I will.”

“ _Love you_.”

Sherlock swallowed. “Love you too.”

He climbed into the back of the car and it pulled away immediately. “What's happened?”

“The Ethiopian election didn't go how he had anticipated. It's hit him hard.”

Sherlock nodded. “Right.”

He quickly threw a plan together and filed it away in his Mycroft-shaped filing cabinet in his Mind Palace then turned his thoughts to his doctor. It was John who had come up with the code scheme. Code 1: when he needed Sherlock alone. Code 2: when he needed both John and Sherlock. John had surprised him once again when the doctor had found out about his relationship with his brother. Mycroft had always told the younger man to keep their relationship a secret and it had been a complete accident when John found out, but he hadn't been disgusted like the Holmes brothers believe he would be. Not-Anthea knew. She was normally responsible for finding Sherlock when the British Government was too stubborn to do so himself. John had slid into the arrangement almost too easily and Mycroft had welcomed it, which had also surpassed even the detective's expectations. What didn't surpass his expectations, was trying to work out what state he would find his brother in.

Mycroft Holmes was sat at his desk in his overly large office reading a report. He had, however, been reading that same report for nearly 2 hours. He couldn't focus, his mind wasn't obeying and he could feel that constant itch to kneel at his brother's feet cloud his judgement. He wouldn't go to him though. He had got passed the stage where he would submit voluntarily. His head wanted to submit, but his body wouldn't. It was way too late for Sherlock to intervene.

At least, that's what he'd expected. What he hadn't expected, was the door slamming open just as he laid his head on the desk in front of him.

“Mycroft Holmes!” Sherlock barked, kicking the door shut with his foot.

Mycroft actually flinched. He had never flinched in his entire life; prepared for anything. Apparently.

Sherlock took in his older brother's appearance. His suit was as immaculate as ever, but his hair had gone mad where he'd obviously ran his hands through it. Not-Anthea had been right to find him. He didn't look good.

“Stand up.”

“Lock, I'm busy-”

“Don't argue with me, Mycroft. Stand up!” He repeated a little louder; more of a threat.

The government official stood this time and slowly, Sherlock walked towards him, a hunter stalking its prey. He stopped inches from him and grabbed him behind the neck. Tugging him forward, he kissed him chastely. “Why did you leave it so long, Myc?”

“I can't be away from the office. I can't.”

“Well, you'd better do as you're told. Anthea has closed off communications into the office.”

Mycroft's head lowered in something that looked like defeat.

Sherlock loosened his grip behind his neck, instead grabbing his hair and tugged him back sharply; the older man's neck open to anything. Sherlock licked one stripe up it and pressed him to his knees by his hands on the taller man's shoulders. “Stay.”

He sat in the chair and wheeled it over to the cupboard. He pulled the things free that he would need and then scooted it through to the other room.

Mycroft waited, back straight, head low.

Sherlock was gone just over 10 minutes and his big brother was just where he'd left him.

“Too many clothes, brother-mine,” he said quietly.

Taking the hint, Mycroft removed, first his jacket, then moved to loosen his tie.

“That'll do,” Sherlock paused him, changing his mind. He then gripped him by the tie and pulled him towards the bedroom. “Close your eyes.” He didn't want him guessing what was about to happen. He took him over to the corner and stopped him just before the chair he collapsed into.

“Blindfold first, Myc.”

He nodded once and on the second deep breath he felt the soft fabric over his eyes. Then his tie was tugged free and Sherlock used it to tie his wrists behind his back.

“Anything too tight?”

“No, sir.” The British Government's voice was soft and had lost its usual sharp edge.

“Ear plugs next. If you want to safe word, click your fingers.”

He nodded again and leant his head against Sherlock's leg as he fiddled about.

He sighed, content when his baby brother detective pulled the high quality ear muffs over his head. Sensory deprivation, just what he needed to clear his mind. He was sure Sherlock suffered the same probably and was more than sure John dealt with him when he was like it. He wished he could live at Baker Street with the pair of them, but it would never work out. They all knew that.

It could have been no more than a minute when he felt the back of his neck gripped tight in what felt like an iron fist and he was pulled forward. He recognised that motion and opened his mouth, knowing what was coming next.

Sherlock thrust his half hard cock into his mouth and held him so his nose was practically touching his groin. Mycroft could just imagine the detective's noises as he choked and gagged on his little brothers cock.

He trusted his brother completely and he had to remind himself of that as he felt his vision going blurry. Nearly, nearly, he clicked his fingers, but just as he was about to, Sherlock pulled him back by the hair.

He had a moment to gasp in as much air as possible and then was tugged forward again. He didn't quite have to deep throat him this time, but he choked as Sherlock's cock brushed the roof of his mouth. He ran his tongue around the part of the circumference he could reach.

Sherlock couldn't take his eyes off Mycroft, as he thrust back in again. Tears were leaking down from beneath the blindfold. He brushed them away with his thumb and glanced at his wrists clenched in fists behind him. He was nowhere near safe wording. He pinched his nose and pushed forward again. Mycroft suckled to the best of his ability and obediently swallowed all of his release as he came shouting Mycroft's name. The first time they'd done this, he had shouted John's name and his older brother hadn't spoken to him for 3 weeks. He was not making that mistake again. Those three weeks had been incredibly dull.

He released Mycroft's hair and the older man pulled back, his head low, as he panted softly. Sherlock removed the mufflers and whispered in his ear. “How's your head?”

“Empty, sir.” Reset.

“Ah, good.”

***

Half an hour later saw them both in bed. Sherlock was upright, reading the paper that was resting against the unit, and Mycroft, freshly showered, curled up naked next to him.

When he seemed to come back from his little bubble, Sherlock played with his hair, brushing it aside with his fingers. “Oh, Myc. Why do you leave it so late?”

“I don't mean to, Lock. It's just when I get passed the need of code 2, it's like I can't stop myself. I usually dream about you on those nights.”

“Come to me next time. Please.”

Mycroft looked up through tired eyes at his brother. He never said please. Never.

“Okay.”


End file.
